We used to call it butterflys
My son hosted a cook out to celebrate his birthday from the week before.
As is so typical of him, he made it about someone else. That is, it was his friend Bernda’s actual birthday and his party became her’s. That is just the way he is. He has always been generous to a fault, and more concerned with others than he is of himself.
I would like to say I raised him that way, but he is his own man. I am very proud of him.
Brenda is a fan of my silly drawings. We had never met. She and her husband, Eric are friends with me on facebook. My kid suggested they fallow my cartoons. Their support means a lot.
She said, upon meeting me, “I feel we should hug, like I have known you a while.”
Sure, I like hugs. Brenda hugs nice.
I asked her which drawing she likes best. She names a couple I go into my drawing room and fit “head up your sax” into a frame. I hand it to her and say, “happy birthday.”
Later she tells me of how, when she and Eric were dating, she would get “stomach flippies” whenever she would see him. I chuckle, I was once young and in love.
I love my wife, but we have been together for a long time. Passion has eased up a bit. No one can maintain that kind of energy forever.
But I ain’t dead. We went to the football game last week. Her first pro game. Riding the bus down to the Stadium I held up my phone for a selfie, she ducked. She hates getting her picture taken.
“Honey, you have to share your picture! I am going to post it for family and friends.”
She goes along with the pictures, even smiles. A lot of family and friends like the post.
“You look like you are having so much fun.”
I edit the picture, cut my mug out and use her face as a back ground photo for my phone. Now, when I check for messages, I see her laughing face, complete with white hair, wrinkles, and the marks of a life lived with me.
It gives me “Tummy Flippies.”